The Getaway Vehicle
by peacefulsands
Summary: When the getaway vehicle is stolen while Jensen and Roque are inside ripping data from a computer installation, they have to make alternative arrangements.


**Title** : The Getaway Vehicle

**Author** : peaceful_sands

**Rating**: PG 13

**Disclaimer** : All characters belong to the owners and creators of the two TV shows, Leverage and Supernatural and no gain is being made out of this endeavor and no offense is intended.

Written for a prompt for the theme "Travel". I'll let you know the actual prompt at the end of the fic – don't want to give it all away!

**Summary** : When the getaway vehicle is stolen while Jensen and Roque are inside ripping data from a computer installation, they have to make alternative arrangements.

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><p><strong>The Getaway Vehicle<strong>

"No, Jensen, no!" Roque was going to be firm about this. "Hell, no!"

Jensen was remarkably laid back about it. He didn't put up a fight at all, just waved Roque to go ahead and then climbed on behind him. As they were about to push off, Roque cringed again at the thought of anyone, anywhere in the universe ever hearing about this and promised he would pin Jensen up against a wall before they saw anyone else and point out why it was in his best interests to never, ever, EVER mention this again!

So the early part of the evening's mission had not gone badly at all. They'd parked an easy jog from the building they were breaking into, with no problem. They'd got in and made their way up to the server room without the least issue; no one in sight anywhere. Jensen had ripped the data in record time (or so it seemed to Roque who at that point was feeling pretty benevolent).

They'd made their way out confidently but safely, sure that they were better than the people they were going to be taking down shortly. Roque had almost been laughing it had been so easy. What was that saying about taking candy from babies? Totally appropriate in this case and with security like that, the company didn't deserve to have any valuable military assets in their purview.

They'd made a quick exit in the direction of the car and that was when the problems began.

They had turned the corner just in time to see 'their' car pulling out of its space, roaring down the road and turning at the far junction and racing out of sight. "Fuck!" Jensen had said, which turned out to be a pretty mild expletive as they'd soon realized why their car had been taken.

They both knew how to jack a car if the need arose. Admittedly they weren't as proficient as Pooch at it, but there was no way they'd have gotten this far in life, spending that much time with Pooch and not know at least the basics. The difficulty was, however, that along with it went an understanding of models not to try taking because of the security or the fail safes to stop them being stolen.

Just their luck to be parked on a street that was full of exactly those models now when they really needed to be shaking ass and burning rubber. So it was that they found themselves widening their search, willing to accept almost anything with wheels.

Roque was inclined to say the only thing worse than this would be a kid's scooter and it was all Jensen's fault.

If he had been in less of a foul mood, he would have been honest enough to say that in fact none of it was Jensen's fault. For once in his career of illustrious never to be forgotten disasters, this was not one of his own making. Unfortunately for Roque that meant he actually felt a little bit guilty every time he tried to make out it was Jensen's fault they were in trouble.

They had moved off searching neighboring properties for a car they could successfully take or even a motorbike would have done . . . seriously Roque wasn't that picky!

Jensen found it. It was a monstrosity but given they'd now wasted a good ten minutes trying to find something, anything to assist with the getaway, options were few and far between. In fact so few and far between that it was this or walk. Reluctantly Roque agreed, helping Jensen pull it free from the tarp under which it had been concealed.

It was rusty, barely roadworthy and looked likely to be as uncomfortable as . . . Roque cut the thought off as Jensen moved to take the front seat of the bike. "No, Jensen, no! Hell, no!" It was bad enough that he was going to have to go on a tandem, worse still that he was going on it with Jensen, like hell he was letting Jensen have the front seat.

Jensen conceded with too much of a smirk for Roque to be truly comfortable with the situation, but at least they were both in position and finally on their way. Seriously as soon as they passed anything they could hotwire, Roque was dumping this and dragging Jensen behind the car, just out of spite for the grin he was wearing.

It took a few attempts before they were upright and moving forward in unison and Roque was not going to admit that Jensen was finding the whole balance thing easier than he was because, seriously, it was because his mind was on steering the damn thing. What kind of masochist bought one of these things and used it willingly?

"Jensen, you better be fuckin' pedaling back there or I'm gonna gut you."

"I'm pedaling," Jensen assured him, far too light heartedly for it to be a good sign.

Roque tried to peer under his own arm and get a glimpse of Jensen's legs and feet and they did appear to be doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing, but Jensen was still far too happy about it all for things to really being going well.

They cycled on the rusty tandem bike for fifteen minutes before Jensen was tugging on him to stop with a yelp and the two of them discovered that coming to an organized safe stop without ending up on their collective asses was almost as difficult as getting started in the first place. With feet firmly planted on the ground, Roque paused to look at the car Jensen was pointing out. A car that looked disconcertingly familiar.

It was their getaway car!

Discarding the bike with both alacrity and relief, the two of them sped over to the car. Roque was so intent on getting out of there that he almost didn't notice Jensen putting his cellphone away in his pocket. "Checking your text messages at a time like this?" he demanded as he slammed the door shut and shoved the key into the ignition.

Roque noticed the blush on his cheeks as he stammered out a response "Erm . . . er, yeah. You know how it is . . . just staying in touch with a few people." Roque shrugged it off, after all what damage could Jensen do with a cell phone.

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><p><em>And the prompt was <strong>The Losers, Jensen &amp; Roque, tandem bike<strong>_


End file.
